“Look,” she mused in my direction, “you’re cute and all, but you’re just too nice.”
Melina smoothed her raven locks out of her face as her emerald eyes narrowed and judged me. She tapped me patronizingly on the shoulder, and turned back to the bar, wrapping her fingers around a cup and downing her Jack. Her button nose scrunched up, but my eyes quickly hungered for her lips; ruby red, wet with lip gloss and whiskey.
